


A New Experience

by jonbsims



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Do Not Archive, Fingering, M/M, Overstimulation, PWP, Size Kink, Tongue Fucking, Trans Martin, Xeno, dubcon, just overindulgent smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-04 01:51:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21189590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jonbsims/pseuds/jonbsims
Summary: Martin finds a new door in his apartment, as well as a curious and familiar face.





	A New Experience

He should have known that something was wrong the second he entered his apartment.

He nearly fell over from the vertigo that hit him as soon as he stepped through the door - it felt like someone had stuffed cotton balls in his head and tied his feet together. But he had had a long day at work, after all, there was no reason to get worked up over that.

He changed into a comfy t-shirt and sweats, grabbed some biscuits and settled down on the couch to watch some tea, getting comfortable in a blanket - ignoring the uncomfortable buzzing in his head - until, after taking a sip from his mug, looked at it and saw a drop of deep red, almost black, swirling around in his drink. With his free hand, he swiped at his nose.

It came away wet and shiny with blood.

He shakily set his tea down on the table, only spilling a few droplets on the table in the process. He stood up and walked to the bathroom as calmly as he could, rolling up a wad of toilet paper, watching the blood quickly soak up into it, staining it bright red.

He felt nauseous.

He grabbed several more wads, stepping back out into the living room. He absentmindedly dabbed at his nose, spacing out, until he saw something and froze.

Sitting across from him, looking innocent and non-suspect, was an unfamiliar familiar door.

Not daring to look away from it, he backed away slowly, fully intending to back into the wall where he could see the entire room, but instead, something catches his foot, and he is sent hurtling straight onto his back with a loud thud.

Once the pounding in his head calms down, he opens his eyes to see a ceiling that is not from his apartment, and a face that stared at him with intent curiosity.

“Um. Hello, Michael,” he says, hesitant.

“Hello, little assistant,” the creature replies happily.

Martin tries to sit himself up, but is nearly immediately stopped by a sharp pain in his lower back.

Michael quickly disappears from sight, and he whimpers in a way that makes him feel all the more pathetic. He hears the creaking and click of a door being shut. He was stuck here, then.

“Are you going to kill me, then? I, uh, guess you felt the need to. Finish me off, or whatever.”

“You’re very fond of your Archivist,” they say, avoiding acknowledging the question whatsoever. “It’s very… Intriguing. And I think I’m fond of the both of you, as well.”

Martin blinks. That was not exactly what he was expecting.

“F - I’m sorry, um, fond?”

He winces as they straddle him, settling their entire non-weight on his thighs, sighing as they shift, apparently making themself comfortable.

“Yes. It is so funny, to watch you little… Creatures, scurry around. Very entertaining. And I am… Interested. In you.”

Martin gulps, wriggling his hips in some sort of measure to try and make himself more comfortable, and failing anyway, feeling the rough, unfamiliar carpet dig into the skin of his arms and neck. His hands twitch, eager to put them somewhere, anywhere other than the floor. Michael leans over him, smiling.

“I believe you are interested as well, little pet. Martin. Oh, so very entertaining.”

“A-and - what do you do with, um, with people you’re interested in?” he asks, licking his lips.

Michael grins wider.

“Would you like me to show you?”

They do not give him any time to give an answer, descending on him ravenously, crashing their mouths together in a way that makes it feel as though Michael has never considered what having a mouth meant before now. Martin moans into it anyway, rolling his hips up.

Michael’s tongue barely feels like one, but it shoves its way into his mouth anyway, hot and cold and rough and soft. Martin sucks on it greedily, trying his best to get into a better angle.

By the time Michael pulls away, he’s breathless, just a bit dizzy, and he can feel the flush spreading down from his face to his chest. They laugh, dizzying, and it spreads further.

When Michael shifts off of him, he whines, reaching for the monster in a vain attempt to bring them back. It leaves him little time to object as they casually run their fingers over his body, shredding his clothes in the process.

“I could have just taken those off,” he mumbles, and Michael only laughs in response.

Before he knows it, Michael is between his legs, humming a pleased, contented noise as they push his legs aside. He feels a hot flash of embarrassment, regret, fear, that melts away as soon as they began licking and nipping at the soft skin on his inner thighs. He sighs, high pitched and needy, as he feels hands - much more human and soft feeling than they had been before - pressing at his folds, splaying them open.

He gasps as Michael licks him, keens as they suck on his clit eagerly. Wanting more, he bucks his hips up, cries when sharp hands dig into his hips, keeping him firmly still. He’s sure there will be bruising later.

“Patience, pet,” Michael coos. “Oh, so sensitive. So wonderful.”

They bite at his thighs again before diving in again, deeper this time. Martin moans as they thrust experimentally. He puts a hand in their hair, eager to encourage. It’s surprisingly soft.

In response, they go further, and he thinks with a start that perhaps this is not how long - or large - a tongue should be, only for his thoughts to silenced as Michael begins tongue fucking him in earnest, making him yelp with the overwhelming sensation. The tongue - or whatever Michael’s equivalent would be - begins to expand within him, or maybe it’s simply uncoiling like some sort of snake, reaching every possible place inside him.

He can feel the tears prickling in his eyes as it _keeps going_, thinking _no, no, it won’t fit, please stop, I can’t do any more_ \- yet still bucking into Michael’s face, whimpering at the burning feeling as he’s forced open, further, further.

It is a cacophony of sensations - burning, stretching, cold and hot, an ever-changing mixture of textures that fuck into him all the same.

It is overwhelming, and painful in the best sort of way, and he’s seeing white before he knows it. An intense orgasm that comes over him in waves, but this doesn’t make Michael slow down - in fact, they seem to redouble their efforts, heaving Martin’s legs over their back, fucking him twice as fast and twice as hard. 

Martin sobs with the mixture of painful overstimulation and pleasure, helpless to do anything but grip Michael’s hair tighter and moan.

At the brutal, unforgiving pace, it is no surprise that he reaches completion again so quickly. The sensation blinds him for a moment before he can form any semblance of coherent thought again.

“Please, Michael, please,” he whimpers, but unsure of what exactly he is asking for.

Michael gives a few more shallow thrusts before relenting, pulling back to grin and admire their work before crawling back onto Martin’s chest.

Feeling thoroughly boneless, Martin only has enough energy to hum sweetly and pet Michael’s hair as they enthusiastically sucked and bit at his neck and nape. He made a mental note to wear turtlenecks for the next week or so.

He whimpers as Michael reaches for his cunt, petting across it almost affectionately before prodding at it with two fingers, quickly pushing it to two, and then three. 

“Michael, please,” he sobs. Michael only laughs in response.

He simply continues to keen and moan, rolling his hips as Michael lazily fingering him, still mouthing against his throat, grazing it with razor sharp teeth. He whimpers as they use a fourth finger to rub at his clit, before rubbing at his folds soothingly and pushing it in.

Michael cuts his cries short by locking lips with him, kissing him hungrily and violently, biting at his lips and sucking on his tongue, all the while continuing to fuck him wide open.

He can feel the pleasure in his belly rising once more, slow and painful, coming over him like a forest fire until it reaches a peak before fizzling out one more time.

Finally Michael pulls away, looking giddy as all hell.

“Was that… Was that as interesting as you thought it would be?”

“Quite. Quite enjoyable.”

Martin hums, contented. “‘M glad,” he mumbles, eyes fluttering closed.

Michael sighs, petting his human’s ruffled hair, damp from sweat, in a show of hesitant affection, before crawling off and picking him up.

Martin wakes up that night, back on his bed, still no clothing, but covered in several blankets. The unfamiliar familiar door is gone, but there is a spiraling heart shaped scar on his chest - over where his real heart would be. He smiles and calls Jon, saying he’s sick and won’t be into work tomorrow.

It might be a while before he’s able to walk properly again, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this Forever ago and just?? never posted it?? anyway, enjoy


End file.
